Home over Heart
by TheLadySong
Summary: Maeve, back in the Shadow, recieves a mysterious letter. Spoilers: the ending. Not yet romance.
1. Banished?

Home Over Heart  
  
Disclaimer: The realm of Annwn, such as it is in this story, and the characters of Maeve, her dad, Thomas, Cordelia, Arwan (sp?) and Morgana, as well as the Annwn place names, belong to Alison Baird. This fanfic was written with her knowledge and consent. The characters not appearing in "The Hidden World" and "The Wolves of Woden" are mine. Nothing else is.  
  
Pronunciation:  
Annwn - a-NOON  
Mebd - MEYV  
  
Chapter 1 - Banished?  
Maeve stared out the window dully as the teacher droned on. She was tuned out completely, only barely on alert for a question aimed to catch her daydreaming.  
  
The view out the window was one she'd seen, yet not. Ever since she and her father had moved to St. John, Maeve had been entranced how it was like, but not like, the way she had seen it before.  
  
Theoretically, the only other time she had seen the Newfoundland city was through a car window on the way to St. Mary's bay. Otherwise it had been Temair, seat of the Gaelic kings in annwn.  
  
Annwn.  
  
It was a world, like and not like Earth, in the same place but on a different plane. It was the world where everything was as it should be, and where Thomas and Arawn and Morgana were, and had been her own private escape from her parent's divorce, and the wretchedness of being Maeve Morgan O'Connor.  
  
She smiled tremblingly, biting her lip to keep the tears in. She'd had to leave, helping Thomas retrieve the Grail, one of the four treasures of Annwn, to help king Arawn fight the Fomori, terrible monsters of the deep. It was on that trip that she had found out that Thom loved her. It was that trip, and the weeks after her banishment from Annwn that she had found out that she loved him.  
  
Too late, too late, a mocking voice sang in her head.  
  
Oh, shut up, she told it, leaning her head against the windowpane, and drowning out her thoughts with the drone of the history teacher.  
  
Lunch was eaten alone, as always. After that she wandered around aimlessly. Finally she picked a tree outside and read under it.  
  
A girl came and sat under a nearby tree, glancing at Maeve. She was new this week, and for a moment Maeve wondered why she wasn't surrounded by the customary group of girls dedicated to show her around and claim her as a friend. Those same girls had rejected Maeve a month before.  
  
The girls caught up with the newcomer son. They stayed on the concrete, but called for her to come. The new girl sighed, slid something off her lap onto the ground, and ran off.  
  
Maeve read studiously until the girls were gone. After that she set her book down and examined the object the girl had left behind. It was a box, with "Maeve" scrawled across the top. Maeve took off the wooden top. Inside was a piece of paper and a piece of jewelery. Maeve picked up the bronze-coloured piece of metal- and nearly dropped it. It was her grandmother's pennanular brooch, which was supposed to be in Annwn. Maeve set down the brooch and picked up the paper with trembling hands. It read:  
  
Medb Morrighan ap Connaught,  
I have a letter for you from Thomas Ryan. The brooch was rescued from Morgana's rath.  
-Rhiannon.  
  
Maeve leaned against the tree and shut her eyes. This couldn't be happening. This COULD NOT be happening. It wasn't true. She opened her eyes. the box was still there, the note scrawled in untidy printing, the brooch glinting dully in the overcast day.  
  
Thomas.  
  
Maeve's lips quivered with suppressed emotion. She tried to reason it out. The brooch was authentic. Nobody in the Shadow knew who Thom was, aside from herself. Well, her and... Rhiannon, apparently. Her name's derivant was right. Even where the brooch was stored in Annwn was right.  
  
So why did it feel almost wrong?  
  
~-~_~-~_~-~  
Not the end, but write some reviews to show that I'm appreciated, and the next part will come out quicker, and that is an honest-to-god fact. It means that I will consider you a captive audience more demanding than the other fandoms that I write for and give YOU top priority. 


	2. Dealing

Chapter 2 - Dealing  
  
Maeve sat on her bed, Thom's letter in her hands. Part of her urged her hands to break the wax seal right away, read what was inside, and settle her doubts.  
  
The other side was lost in memory and thought. Thom in the fields outside Connemara, speaking of Shakespeare. Thom's sister Cordelia playing with her doll. Speaking with Morgana at Dun Temair. The tapestry in Temair's throne room, seeing her own fingers softly touch the figure that was surely her grandmother, gone to Annwn before her.  
  
Maeve put the letter aside and lay down. Images played on her closed eyelids. The sea. Apple trees. A laughing Padraig.. Emain Ablach. Ynys Afallon. The Island of The Apple Trees. Her head filled with the foreign words, Welsh, Irish, and Beothuk. An da shealladh. Mamooset...  
  
She pressed her fingertips against her eyelids, and concentrated on breathing. Breathe in, breathe out, that's the way.  
  
Why did she feel so afraid at the idea of a letter from Annwn? The weeks after returning to the Shadow, she had treated Annwn as a wound. She cleaned it, let it heal, and fade as a scar on her mind. The letter had the ability to rip her apart all over again. How much more than I'm ripped apart now? she wondered.  
  
The faint smell of cooking food wafted into the room was, or so it seemed to her, a good excuse to go downstairs and forget about the letter for the time being.  



	3. The Letter

Home Over Heart  
  
Part 3 - The Letter  
  
Dear Maeve-  
When Rhiannon said you were still alive - I didn't know what to do. I wanted to, needed to, send a letter, but why break our hearts when Annwn claims me and the angels had taken you to the Shadow?  
  
I am well here. Mother, Father, and Cordelia have returned to Connemara, but I have stayed at Temair. Arawn sends his boundless thanks at your sacrifice.  
  
Rhiannon was a traveller, and has the strange ability to travel between Annwn and the Shadow, even where any other living soul would not find the weakest link. She has volunteered to pass letters to you, but she will live where she pleases.  
  
Arawn and Morgana are set to be married, to the surprise of many. I have joined a group of actors and bards in Temair and am set to travel Avalon with our group next year.  
  
With all my love,  
Thomas.  
  
~`~`~`~`~  
  
Maeve leaned back, wishing she could cry. Tears, however, were reluctant in coming.  
  
God, why did this have to happen now, when I thought it was over? I love him so much. But yet...  
  
She didn't know what. Slowly she let sleep take her over, and slumped down.  
  
Light streaming through her bedroom window the next morning cheered her up. She enjoyed the glory of late morning sunshine, but came back to earth with a start. I'm late! she thought.  
  
Saturday, Maeve, a voice in her head chimed.  
  
Oh.  
  
Well then. Outside. Spring is here again.  
  
The sun had burned off the morning fog already. Maeve half-ran down the street, heading to her favorite spot. It was a small park, but one without benches, or regularily, people. The small apple tree in the centre was putting out blossoms, not yet the white-frothy glory yet, but still filling the air with their faint scent.  
  
Maeve leaned back against the tree, feeling its bark against her cheek. Days like this were beautiful and reminded her what the world really had to offer. The sky was blue and cloudless.  
  
Maeve wasn't sure if she slept, but the next thing she knew a pair of feet were right beside her. Looking up, she saw her father's face.  
  
"Hey, daddy." she smiled up at him.  
  
"Good morning, Maeve. I didn't see you leave."  
  
"I left out of the back door."  
  
Her father looked down the street. A few teenagers were playing on a field at the end of it. "Maeve, I'm worried about you. You're sixteen. Why don't you have any friends? I know you've always been a loner, but you should at least find someone to confide in."  
  
Maeve looked down a moment. "There isn't anyone here I'd like to be friends with."  
  
He looked at her, worried. "You're sure?"  
  
"More than sure."  
  
"Well-" her father sighed. "I wouldn't want to push you to be friends with someone you don't want to be friends with, I guess."  
  
She smiled. "I know, da."  
  
Watching him walk away, Maeve wondered what he would think of Thomas. It was hard for him; Brandon was with her mother in Ontario, the divorce being final last November. She was his top priority here. Of all things, she wanted him to be happy. How happy would he be if she was in love with a boy a world away? 


	4. Try not to kill the messenger

Home Over Heart  
Chapter 4  
Thank you, Ryuu Kaze, Ginny, Tempist, you reviews were a treat! The support here is really nice. Okay, on with the show...  
  
~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~  
  
"Miss O'Connor, would you please pay attention?"  
  
Maeve's head jeked back. "I'm sorry."  
  
The teacher awarded her only one further glare before returning to her lecture. Maeve rubbed her eyes with the backs of her hands. Last night, she'd gotten very little sleep. It was a mercy when the bell rang.  
  
Wearily she plodded outside, already fishing in her pocket for money to buy lunch.  
  
"Hey, Maeve." a form crossed her vision.  
  
Blearily she looked up. It was one of the "popular" boys. "Oh. Hi."  
  
"You look tired. Didn't get much sleep last night?"  
  
"Barely any."  
  
He grinned. "Too busy with, uh, Thomas?" he asked, winking.  
  
Maeve's head reared back. Where was this coming from? She grabbed his arm. "Where the hell did you hear that?"  
  
The grin was replaced by a smirk. "You dropped some letter outside of Drama. We only had time to glance at it before that Rhiannon chick swooped in and grabbed it up."  
  
Maeve didn't waste any more time on him. She turned on her heel and went to Rhiannon, who was standing across the tarmac, talking to a group of th "popular" girls.  
  
"I want it back."  
  
Rhiannon turned around serenely. She didn't need to ask to know what 'it' was. "Are you going to answer it?"  
  
Maeve sighed. "That's not important. Give it back." she extended her hand, waiting for Rhiannon to give it back.  
  
Rhinnon didn't budge. "It is so important. If you don't write back, you'll hurt him." The girls at her back gave little 'oohs' about Maeve O'Connor having a boy.  
  
Maeve gave them a good glare. "That isn't your concern. You promised to put it in my keeping. You're the messenger. So give it to me. It's no concern of yours whether or not I'll answer it."  
  
"Is it not?" Rhiannon looked down her nose. "I for one do not want to hike all over Gwennedd this summer and tell him the girl he loves won't even write."  
  
Maeve turned red. "If I promise to answer it, will you give it back?"  
  
Rhiannon looked down her nose at Maeve, then handed the letter over. "I will hold you to that promise, Maeve O'Connor. Bring me the reply as soon as it is finished. Don't even think of refusing to reply."  
  
She is too sure of herself, Maeve thought as she walked away, letter in hand. Rhiannon's lofty attitude bugged her.  
  
So she had to write the letter. 


	5. Maeve's Reply

Home over Heart - Part 5  
  
Maeve chewed the end of the pen. Writing to Thomas was a lot harder then she had thought. How was she supposed to tell him she'd spent the last year pretending Annwn was a bad dream?  
  
Dear Thomas, she wrote, then stopped.  
  
Oh, bother this, she thought. What am I supposed to say? I'll just... write.  
  
I'm living in St John's, which is in the same place as Temair. I suppose I've survived, but I still have very little- a couple- no- friends. Most of the time I read. I'm trying to join a community theatre.  
  
How is it that Rhiannon can pass between Annwn and the Shadow? It doesn't seem possible. I remember you said those born in Annwn are unable to leave, and those in the Shadow don't seem to be able to go through.  
  
And... I suppose it is that I have no idea what to say anymore. After I left Annwn, it felt like part of me had been torn away, and the new person that was starting to form got left behind. It was like all life here is pale and thin and less real, in a way, though Isuppose it is. There is less magic. All I have left now is an apple tree a street over. There at least I can pretend I never left.  
  
The problem is, I've been trying to convince everyone, including my father, I never came to Annwn, which makes me feel like I'm betraying you all somehow. Life has gotten so complicated all of a sudden.  
  
Please write back. Perhaps we will meet again on Tir Nan Og.  
Maeve.  
  
Maeve put the letter down and passed a hand over her eyes. It wouldn't do to have the letter stained with tears. 


	6. The Other Side of the Mirror

hiddenworld-1_6

Home Over Heart - Part 6

The Other Side of the Mirror

This is just simply for everyone who reads this. I hope you enjoy it, and am endlessly grateful for your readership and your support, special mention to Ryuu Kaze, whether I say it or not.

Thom shrugged the saddle off Gwyn's back. Of all the mounts in Temair, he still chose his old pony. Arawn had offered him anything, anything at all, to pay for "service to the crown". Thom didn't really care about riches. All he wanted was his family to be safe, the damage done to Connemara repaired.

Thom smiled. And another doll for Cordelia. Gwendolen was so raged and dirty that Branwen had almost seized her, but Arawn had given her another. It wasn't made of porcelain or clay, but of silk. Cordelia could play with it without worrying about breaking it. She adored the new doll, and played games between Gwendolen and Bainne, as she called the new one.

Thom heaved the saddle onto a peg protruding from the wall at the end of the stable. He rode enough to be a regular in the stable.

"Hello, Thom."

Thom knew that voice. It was Cytheria, a girl his age in Court. Girls were always there, since Hy-Bressail. Cytheria was a particular hanger-on, even after he had made it clear she was not interested. Thom turned to her, as chivalry demanded, bowed, and touched his hat. "Good day, Lady Cytheria."

Cytheria laughed. She was a beauty, no denying it. Her hair hung long and golden to her slender waist, and vibrant blue eyes were framed by long, exquisite lashes. _She could have any boy in Avalon_, Thom thought. _Why does she have to bother me?_ He kept his face schooled to blankness. "Oh, Thom," she laughed, "Still so formal? Do you not feel comfortable around me?"

Thought Thom: _I never can, I never will, and I never want to._

Said Thom: "I am polite to a lady such as yourself. If you will excuse me, I am wanted."

Before she could reply, he turned and scurried off to the open air theatre where the other actors were lounging. Thom sat and wiped his brow. "That was close!"

Angus, the lead actor, laughed. "Having troubles, Thom?"

A younger actor piped up, "Most men's problems are getting girls to come to them. Thom's are keeping them away!"

This was greeted with roars of laughter. Thom couldn't help but smile himself.

Angus smirked. "Who is it, Thom, that is so fair that Cytheria pales in comparison? An angel? A maid of the sea, come to tempt those who come close? Who?"

Thom smiled wistfully. "Not an angel, no, but with the sight of the same. Not a mermaid, no, but she once swam with them."

"You're talking in riddles. Speak it clearly."

Thom shook his head. "I won't. If any of you think the lady Cytheria any better than one with the sight of an angel, then do so, but I'll differ."

The rest of the troupe laughed and walked away, leaving Thom in the amphitheater.

He walked to a nearby tree- an apple. Thom rested against the silver bark and heard the wind singing among the silver blossoms. He thought of Maeve, could almost feel her leaning against the same tree, her shoulder touching his-

And perhaps Maeve, in her one refuge from the urbanity of St. Johns, did.

*grin* that's the other side. I'm quite enjoying myself. R/r if you want, but it's fun to write this.


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